Bound: Minutemen MC (21 page)

Chapter 30: The Plan

To say that Stephan was seething would be the understatement of the century. Dirk remembered only one time when he had seen his president so furious, and it wasn’t a time he liked to think about—it was the time when Herman Ruiz had almost broken him. The only reason why Stephan had not gone berserk three years ago was that Dirk was falling apart, and he needed the others to keep their cool and keep him together.

This time, however, Dirk was whole again—more or less, as whole as he would ever be, given the fact that he would never be whole again—and Stephan had the luxury to go on a rampage. Except that he didn’t, not really. No matter how badly they wanted to, they couldn’t go riding off into the night killing Tar Mongols left and right. They needed a plan, and it just so happened that Dirk had one. He just wasn’t sure anyone else would be on board with it.

He waited for the right time—or as right a time as it could be, considering the circumstances. He waited until the doctors had patched Kyle up and told them he was going to be okay, but they were keeping him for forty-eight hours for observation. He waited until the men he had sent to retrieve Abraham’s body had come back, and he waited for the funeral arrangements to be made. He waited until the men he had sent to get Camilla out of his house had brought her—safe and sound—to the MC’s headquarters.

And then he called for a meeting. By then, it was the dead of the night, and the men’s spirits were bleak.

“This is more than enough,” Stephan hissed once everyone had assembled. His jaw was clenched so tight that it was a wonder they couldn’t actually hear the grinding of his teeth. “This ends
now
. We must act.”

A choir of approval rose from the gathered men—all except Dirk, who remained quiet. His silence didn’t go unnoticed. Stephan looked over at him, a curious expression on his face.

“What?” he all but barked. “What are you thinking about?”

Dirk cringed inwardly. Stephan knew something was up and already didn’t like it. As for Dirk, he didn’t like how close to boiling Stephan seemed to be. Fury tended to cause their president to make harsh, irresponsible decisions, and Dirk wasn’t sure he could get him to see reason if he were to truly fly off the handle.

“We must act,” he agreed easily. “We’ve got to attack them before they attack us again.” There were more sounds of approval, but Dirk knew they would be short-lived. “But before we deliver our final blow, we’ve got to make sure they have nothing to attack anymore. We’ve got to make sure we’ve got nothing to lose.”

Predictably, all murmurs of agreement died down. It was clear that the men knew he was getting somewhere, and that they were suspicious.

“What are you saying exactly, Dirk?” Stephan said, ever cutting to the chase whenever fury was brimming under his surface.

Dirk paused for a moment. He wracked his brain, trying to find the right words. And then he realized that there were no right words. “I think we should pull back from the desert.
Temporarily
,” he added quickly, before they could all explode in his face. “We pull the guns and ammunition and store it all in one place, here in the headquarters.”

He paused then, letting his words sink in. There was stunned silence, which in his experience
really
wasn’t a good thing when it came to this bunch.

“Leave,” Stephan spoke after what felt like an eternity, his voice low and controlled.
Too
controlled.

Dirk blinked, and then he realized that the MC’s president was talking to the assembled men.

“But—” Johnny tried to say.

“I said,
leave us
.”

Stephan’s voice was a guttural growl now, and everyone knew better than to argue with
that
. Everyone got up and scattered readily, leaving the two leading men alone in the headquarters’ meeting room.

The silence lingered for quite some time after that. Dirk knew that speaking now would be a bad move. He knew that Stephan had the upper hand, no matter what. He knew that he had to respect the hierarchy, because it was the only thing that would give him a chance at success.

But Stephan didn’t speak. He stared and he fumed, silently. Until Dirk finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“Stephan, say something,” he finally said. “What are you thinking?”

Stephan’s hazel eyes flashed, so sudden and dangerous that Dirk had to physically suppress the urge to recoil. “I’m thinking you’re out of your fucking mind,” he spat. “Pull out the guns? Empty the storage areas? Are you fucking kidding me, Dirk?”

“I just thought—”

“No!” Stephan hissed furiously. “You’re
not
thinking, that’s the problem! What possessed you to—?”

“Will you just listen to me already?” Dirk snapped, surprising even himself with his outburst.

If anything, Stephan’s mouth snapped shut from the sheer shock alone.

“Look,” Dirk continued, taking a deep, calming breath, “I realize it’s not orthodox”—Stephan snorted, and Dirk ignored him—“but hear me out. Herman Ruiz will most likely try to continue what he started today. He will want to hit us repeatedly wherever it hurts, namely in our storage places. He’ll hunt down each and every one of our warehouses. And when he’s destroyed everything we own,
then
he’ll come after us. But if we leave nothing for him to steal, he’ll have no other option but to just come out in the open and finish this once and for all.”

Stephan watched him intently. Dirk could tell that he was getting to him.

“Come on, Stephan,” Dirk encouraged. “You know it’s not a stupid idea after all.”

Stephan mulled it over. “Maybe not,” he finally admitted, somewhat begrudgingly. “But where do you suggest we put all the weapons and ammunition we’ve got stored across the desert? There’s no way the warehouse at the headquarters is going to hold it all.”

Dirk hesitated. This was the part of his plan he was sure everybody would hate—he hated it, too. “We’re just going to sacrifice them.”

Predictably, Stephan stared at him. It was clear that he had gone past the point of being mad and had reached the stage where he was genuinely concerned that Dirk had gone clinically insane.

“Pardon me?” he said.

Dirk sighed heavily. “Believe me, I don’t like it either—”

“No shit.” Stephan snorted again.

And once again, Dirk ignored him. “—but it’s the smart thing to do. Ruiz sure as hell isn’t expecting us to do anything like this.”

“You mean like throwing away at least a third of our profit?”

Dirk grimaced. “I know,” he amended. “It’s tough. But the Tar Mongols will go for our storage buildings and warehouses, and if we leave a little surprise for them in each one…well, we might just finally start to get our revenge after all.”

Stephan frowned, a now intrigued expression on his face. “What kind of surprise?”

“The explosive kind.” Dirk grinned.

A matching smirk slowly but surely appeared on Stephan’s lips. “Now,
that
, I like.”

“I thought you might.” Dirk sobered up quickly. “Look, he’s gonna come after us anyway. We might as well not make it easy for him.”

Stephan nodded. “Fair enough,” he admitted. “I guess it
is
a good idea, after all. But I don’t like the thought of holing up weapons and men here at the headquarters. We’re smack in the middle of the town; we’d risk endangering innocent people, too.”

Dirk cursed softly under his breath. “Shit,” he said. “I hadn’t thought about that.” He allowed himself a moment or two to reflect over the matter. “We could use my house.”

“No,” Stephan said immediately. “We’re not risking exposing your location.”

“Stephan, we don’t have a choice,” Dirk argued. “I’m the only one who doesn’t live in town.”

Stephan hesitated. It was clear by the look on his face that he, too, knew that Dirk’s house was the only option—and that he didn’t like it at all.

“Fine,” he finally said. “I suppose we really have no choice.” He rubbed at his temples with a long-suffering sigh. “Let’s call the others back in.”

Dirk cringed. “They’re not going to like the plan.”

“Probably not,” Stephan admitted. “But they’ll warm up to it as soon as they hear about the explosives. And even if they don’t, fuck them, we’re in charge.” He winked.

Dirk smirked back, although deep down he had to admit that sometimes he really,
really
hated his role of command. It would have been a lot easier to just follow orders rather than come up with them.

***

They rode out the very next day. It took them almost twenty-four hours, but they did it all. They emptied the warehouses and storage places, transferring what cargo they could to the private warehouse sitting right next to Dirk’s house. They bid farewell to the remaining weapons, counting their losses even as they couldn’t suppress their satisfaction at putting the explosives in place. Stephan was right; it hadn’t taken long for the men to warm up to the plan once they learned about the presents they would leave behind for the Tar Mongols.

By the time everything was in place, it was dawn of the next day. Dirk stumbled into the room he was sharing with Camilla at the headquarters—there was no point in pretending they weren’t somehow involved anymore—and found her fast asleep in the large bed. He paused briefly to contemplate her sleeping form. He thought about what it would feel like when all of this was over and they would have to part ways. He found that it wasn’t an epilogue he liked to think about.

He moved silently, shedding his clothes and walking into the bathroom for a quick shower. He let the hot spray hit his back and willed for the violent jet of the water to shake certain thoughts out of him, but it didn’t work. No matter how hard he tried, Camilla was always there—in his head, and behind closed eyelids.

When he finally collapsed into bed, Dirk let out a long sigh, feeling the exhaustion slam into him in full force. Beside him, Camilla didn’t wake, but she moved closer to him in her sleep and threw an arm across his waist. Dirk looked down at her in surprise. That kind of intimacy was a new thing to him, something he thought he had long forgotten. And yet, here it was again, different and familiar at the same time.

He clenched his jaw, angry with himself for the kind of thoughts that were swimming around in his head and the sort of emotions that were swirling around in his chest. So much for no distractions. Here he was, falling for Camilla harder and faster and deeper than he had up until now. He couldn’t help it. There was just something about her that pulled him towards her and that he was powerless to resist.

No, he definitely wouldn’t like it when they would have to part ways. In fact, he would hate it. But he wasn’t so far gone that he didn’t realize that they had no other option. Their worlds and lives were too different to coexist. She belonged to the Big Apple. He belonged to the desert. He could only offer her half a life, at best, and she deserved so much more than that.

He covered her forearm with one hand and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how much longer they had together, but for now, he would relish her warmth.

Chapter 31: Hunger

Camilla didn’t hear Dirk come in that morning, but when she woke up, she was pleasantly surprised to find him lying next to her under the covers. She didn’t know what
this
was, this weird, mutual agreement they shared with each other, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to stop and think about it. It was physical, and it was more than that—but what that “more” was…neither she nor Dirk were ready to deal with it.

She turned on her side and draped an arm across the small of his back. Even in this reclining position, she could feel the hard muscles underneath her forearm. Without thinking, she pressed a kiss to his naked shoulder. He stirred instantly, and Camilla cursed herself under her breath. She had not meant to wake him, and she had definitely not meant for him to feel that gesture.

Dirk opened his eyes and turned onto his back, blinking drowsily at the ceiling a few times before he turned his head to look at her. He gave her a sleepy smile. Camilla’s heart skipped a beat. With that one gesture, he had made way for a new intimacy between them, and she was terrified of it.

Dirk seemed to catch it, too, because he soon woke up and pushed himself into a seated position, running a hand through his brown hair.

“What time is it?” he said, his voice still scratchy from sleep.

Camilla did her best to ignore what that extra husky quality of his voice did to her. “A little after eight.”

Dirk groaned. “Fuck that, I came in at six.” He flopped back down onto the mattress, throwing an arm across his eyes.

Camilla chuckled. “Sorry,” she offered. “Go back to sleep.”

She made to stand up, but Dirk grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. She looked at him quizzically, and she found a familiar smirk on his face and an equally familiar dark look in his blue eyes. Both were a silent promise of good—hell,
great
—things to come, and it made her shiver.

“I’m wide awake now,” Dirk said. “We don’t ride out until the afternoon. Might as well pass the time.”

“And
how
would you like to pass the time, exactly?” Camilla asked, although she knew and counted on the answer. The grin on her lips matched Dirk’s.

Dirk didn’t reply. He simply tugged her down for one of their trademark long, hungry kisses. Camilla went willingly, and as always, the contact of Dirk’s lips on hers ignited a fire in her entire body.

“We might not have many more occasions to do this,” Dirk gasped against her mouth. “Better make this one count.”

Camilla pulled back just enough to stare at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, who knows what’s going to happen after today? It’s just a matter of time before we or the Tar Mongols go in for the final attack, and that time’s gonna be very short.”

Camilla shivered, and this time it wasn’t the good kind of shivering. She didn’t like the thought that Dirk had just put in her head. She didn’t like to think that this may be the last time they ever had sex. She didn’t like to think he might get himself killed sometime soon. She didn’t like to think that once it was all over, they would have to part ways and she would most likely never see him again. Their time was running out, and Camilla cursed herself for not having realized it sooner.

Now that she
did
realize it, however, she had two choices. She could either sit in a corner and mope, or she could follow Dirk’s lead and make this time count. She opted for the latter.

The more she thought about the possibility of never feeling Dirk’s touch again, the more desperate she became for it. It showed in her every movement. Eventually, she found herself on top of Dirk, straddling him with her thighs—like she had done one of the very first times they’d had sex. It was always urgent between them; it was always frantic. It was always lustful. But it was never like this. This was a “farewell” kind of sex; the kind of sex that left you breathless and spent and somewhat empty. The kind of sex that only two people who were convinced they would never see each other or touch each other again could have.

Dirk responded with the same kind and amount of desperation. He played no games this time. He didn’t tease her. His tongue didn’t run in tantalizing licks and twirls over her clitoris. His fingers didn’t dance inside of her. He didn’t take his sweet time. He didn’t even prep her, and Camilla couldn’t say that she minded. In fact, even though the first act of penetration hurt, she found the whole thing extremely hot.

She welcomed Dirk’s frantic thrusts and rough shoves. There was something raw and animal-like about the way Dirk was moving. He had always been a passionate man, but this was different. Camilla let go and surrendered to all of the sensations he was giving her. She surrendered to his hard, powerful cock inside of her. She surrendered to the friction of his hips against her pelvis. She surrendered to their sweaty bodies, entangled. She surrendered to all of it.

And when she finally came, she surrendered to the explosion of the senses that accompanied the experience, and to the knowledge that for that short, precious time, nothing and no one else existed.

As she regained her bearings, Camilla realized that they had climaxed together. She could have stopped to think about why that was. She could have stopped to wonder about that uncanny bond she had developed with Dirk, the way their bodies seemed to understand each other. But she decided not to. It was safer that way. It was easier. And given how complicated their general situation was, she would take all the “easy” she could get. God knew they both needed it.

They lay in silence for a long time, simply resting next to each other, on top of the messy sheets, spent and satisfied like they had never been.

“Well,” Dirk finally spoke, minutes later, his voice hoarse from the happiest exhaustion of his life, “that was…uh…different.”

Camilla smirked and turned her head to look at him. He wore such a blissed-out expression on his face that she would have kissed him and done it all over again…if only she had the energy. Instead, she just mumbled her agreement and reached down to take his hand, entwining their fingers together. She surprised even herself with that one instinctive gesture, and she was even more stunned when Dirk didn’t pull away. If anything, Dirk squeezed her palm and returned her hold.

“I really need you to be careful out there, Dirk,” Camilla said, and once again she was surprised to hear the words come from her mouth. She decided not to stop them. They had been brutally honest with each other up until now, their naked bodies doing all the talking their tongues couldn’t—or wouldn’t—do; it made no sense to go back into hiding now.

Dirk looked at her, and judging by the look on his face, he was equally taken aback. He could have played dumb. He could have said something along the lines of, “What do you mean?” He could have downplayed it and said something like, “I’m always careful”. He could have made fun of her and said something like, “All right,
Mom.
” But he didn’t.

Instead, Dirk gave Camilla’s hand another squeeze and promised, “I’ll be careful.”

Camilla could have stopped to think about the fact that he seemed to know exactly what she meant—even though she hadn’t elaborated, but she refused to do that. She would stick with easy for the time being.

***

As the time to leave the MC’s headquarters drew near, Camilla became more and more restless. It wasn’t the transfer to Dirk’s place in the desert that worried her; she had gone through that the previous day and nothing had happened after all. It was what would come
after
that. She was pretty much terrified of what would happen next—whatever that might be.

Even if Dirk survived the climax of this awful, ongoing feud with the Tar Mongols, she knew that not all of the men would. This was war, after all, and even though she had never fought and had never been on the front line, she knew that, statistically speaking, someone would die. She searched every face, as she watched them get ready, and she couldn’t help the chill that crept in her bones.

She met Stephan Walker’s unreadable blue eyes across the hall of the house that served as the club’s headquarters. For the first time since she had met him, the Minutemen’s president didn’t mock her or threaten her. Instead, Stephan gave her a nod and a smile that seemed sincere and reassuring all at the same time. For the first time, he seemed almost friendly. She wondered if maybe he could sense her discomfort and even guess what she was thinking. She wouldn’t be surprised if that turned out to be the case; the man had proven to possess unnatural people-reading abilities on more than one occasion.

It wasn’t long before the tension within her body became too much. Camilla walked past the hallway and living room and into the kitchen, determined to get out of the men’s way, as they busied themselves with carrying provisions outside to their bikes. She wondered how long they expected to be gone. She wondered, idly, if they were all going to fit in Dirk’s house—and then she shook her head. Of course they would fit; chances were they had holed up there before, and Dirk wouldn’t have offered the location if it wasn’t ideal.

Speaking of Dirk, Camilla watched as he took charge of the situation. The way he gave his commands, soft and yet firm and unescapable, made him appear even more formidable in Camilla’s eyes. She hated this feeling. She hated the slow and yet unstoppable realization that she was falling for this man. It was ridiculous. It was dangerous. It was madness. And yet she couldn’t help it. Over the past few days, she had come to realize that she had fallen under Dirk Coleman’s spell the minute their paths had crossed.

Camilla groaned and buried her head in her hands, elbows resting on top of the kitchen’s table. The situation was fucked up, and she was way past the point where she could have done something about it. She had not been able to resist Dirk at the beginning; there was no way in hell she could resist him now.

“No distractions.”

Dirk’s rule came back to her, and she thought about it. In hindsight, it sounded like a smart rule to live by, particularly given the circumstances. Maybe she should have tried harder to follow it, too. But she hadn’t, and Dirk hadn’t been able to follow it either. Not for the first time, she wondered if he was as hopelessly drawn to her as she was drawn to him. If their numerous heated exchanges—including the raw session they had just shared—were anything to go by, he probably was. Camilla wondered what they should do about it. She wondered if there was even something to be done. Perhaps they were just destined to long for each other from now on, their desires unfulfilled.

She scowled fiercely. She didn’t like that notion in the least. And yet, letting go of each other was probably the only possible epilogue for this crazy story they had shared.